


Pack Mentality

by PrincessPhoenix



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Drug use cw, Drugged Sex, Multi, Nonconsensual, very noncon, werewolf!Lydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-08 00:59:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessPhoenix/pseuds/PrincessPhoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The warnings in this fic include:</p><p>Use of drugs to keep someone complacent<br/>Nonconsensual sex<br/>Underage sex</p><p>Gift for ao3 user Ravenspear for listening to me ramble about a longer, more involved fic, and helping me out with it.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Pack Mentality

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ravenspear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenspear/gifts).



> The warnings in this fic include:
> 
> Use of drugs to keep someone complacent  
> Nonconsensual sex  
> Underage sex
> 
> Gift for ao3 user Ravenspear for listening to me ramble about a longer, more involved fic, and helping me out with it.

Scott woke up, his head pounding. There was something wrong. He was tangled in sheets of a bed and he tried to open his eyes. Before his vision swam he saw a desk and a solitary dresser. He saw the dresser multiply into two before he closed his eyes again. Fabric rustled and Scott was pulled into a sitting position and he wondered if he slept. He opened his eye again and looked at Peter, his vision swimming. “What did…”

“Shhh,” Peter said, pressing a finger to Scott’s lips. Scott whimpered against it and tried to move. His limbs were too heavy and so he stayed in place, staring at Peter in mute appeal. “It’s okay, Scott,” Peter murmured, cupping Scott’s cheek. “You’re alright. Do you think you can stand?”

“No.” Scott stared and closed his eyes, slumping. “I can’t move.” He trailed off as Peter lifted him with hands under Scott’s armpits. Scott’s legs buckled and Peter pressed something into Scott’s hands.

“Drink this,” Peter encouraged. Scott could barely focus, Peter’s voice was so distant and muted. The water was cool, though, and he drank. “Good boy,” Peter said again and Scott mumbled a response. Peter’s hand stroking Scott’s hair and Scott leaned into it, eyes glowing gold. There were muffled sounds from the other side of the room and Scott tried to turn his head. “No, don’t worry about that,” Peter said and Scott stood still, quivering. “Feeling better, Scott?”

“No,” Scott said and forgot why an instant later. Peter crooned and turned Scott’s face to him. “I can’t stand,” he said. His words slurred out of him. “What did you do to me?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Peter soothed, running his fingers through Scott’s hair. Scott tilted his head back, closing his eyes. Peter’s lips pressed against Scott’s neck and Scott tried to lift his hands to stop him. “Everything’s going to be okay,” Peter said against Scott’s neck. “I’m going to make you feel okay.”

“How?” Scott asked as Peter kissed his forehead.

“You’ll see,” Peter murmured. Peter kissed him and Scott tilted his head back, lips parting at Peter’s tongue. The hem of Scott’s shirt was pushed up and Scott whined into Peter’s mouth as fingertips brushed over his stomach. Peter crouched, pressing kisses along Scott’s stomach. Scott squirmed, his hands rising and falling onto Peter’s head.

“What are you doing?” Scott asked, swaying. Peter grasped Scott’s hips and eased him down onto the bed. “What did you do?”

“Relax,” Peter said, kissing up Scott’s chest as he pushed Scott’s shirt off. The sounds from the room grew louder, sounding almost like screams. “I told you I was going to make you feel good, and I mean it.” Scott squirmed as Peter’s hands spread across his back and he kissed Scott’s throat. “You’re going to feel so good that you’re going to cry my name,” Peter said.

Sheets rustled against Scott’s back as Peter pushed. Scott tried to turn his head to see who was crying but found Peter’s hand turning it back for a kiss. Scott whined as Peter kissed him. “Stop,” Scott gasped into Peter’s mouth. His hands pushed against Peter’s shoulders as Peter settled onto Scott’s hips. “Why can’t I think?”

“Sh,” Peter soothed and tied Scott’s wrists to the bedposts. “You’re fine, Scott. You’re safe, and I’m not going to hurt you.” There was hysterical sobbing somewhere and Scott tried to focus on it but it made his head hurt. Peter was kissing Scott’s shoulders, fingers pressing against Scott’s chest, and Scott’s hips bucked into Peter.

“What’s happening?” Scott managed, his head foggy.

“I’m telling you, I’m going to make you feel good,” Peter said as he licked up Scott’s middle. “Don’t you feel good already?” Scott nodded, his hips bucking as Peter scraped his teeth over a nipple. “That’s a good boy. My perfect little beta.” Peter sighed against Scott before yanking down Scott’s jeans and boxers. “So beautiful.”

“Peter,” Scott said and Peter kissed Scott’s inner thigh. Scott could no longer think and Peter licked along Scott’s thighs.

“Shh,” Peter said again as he kissed Scott’s cock. It was hard already, pressing against Scott’s stomach. “Don’t worry, Scott. I’m going to take good care of you.” Scott pulled against the restraints on his wrists as Peter licked his cock and let out a small moan. The ropes chafed at him, leaving marks that healed on his skin. The pain and the effort of moving took everything out of him and his head lolled to the side.

Peter’s hands were clutching Scott’s hips and Scott tried to push them down into the bed, away from the drag of Peter’s tongue. There was a pool of heat in Scott’s stomach and he whined, squeezing his eyes shut. “I don’t want to,” he managed. “Please, I don’t want to…” The entreaty continued to spill from him and Peter crooned.

“Sh, it’s okay, Scott,” he said as he draped himself over Scott and kissed Scott’s cheek. Scott whimpered, turning his head away. Peter brought it back, claws digging into Scott’s cheek. They locked eyes and Scott stared, captivated by the dark red of Peter’s eyes. The rim of a glass pressed to Scott’s lips and Peter stroked Scott’s hair. “Can you drink this for me?”

Scott tried to say no, to shake his head, but his lips parted and the water trickled down his throat. He coughed, spluttering, and Peter withdrew the cup to stroke Scott’s hair. “See?” Peter murmured. “You’re such a good boy, Scott. You’re doing very well.” Scott blinked, tilting his head as Peter trailed fingers along Scott’s jaw. Peter leaned down and kissed Scott, flicking his tongue against the roof of Scott’s mouth. Scott’s head was foggy but he was sure that Peter was kissing down him again, each physical sensation like a mark.

Scott closed his eyes as Peter began to pay attention to his cock again. All of the attention made him groan, the pleasure spiking again as Peter’s tongue lapped at his cock. He tried to move again, wanting to do something—he was unsure of what--but the ropes burned on his wrists. Peter licked up Scott’s cock again before taking Scott entirely into his mouth. Scott’s breath hitched and he jerked his hips upward with a long moan. Peter caught Scott’s hips and kept them in the air, hollowing his cheeks and sucking. Scott whimpered, closing his eyes. The fog in his brain kept obscuring his thoughts until all Scott could focus was on the way Peter was bobbing his head.

The pleasure grew white hot and Scott’s hips jerked again, burying himself in Peter’s mouth. Peter did nothing more than groan and Scott came with a long groan; of which was all he was capable. Peter swallowed and pulled off of Scott, wiping his mouth. Scott tried to curl away, unsure as to why, but Peter’s hands trapped him and Scott let out a shaky breath.

“Don’t you feel good, Scott?” Peter asked, kissing Scott’s neck. Scott tried to breath but it was hard to remember how. “Or do you want to feel better?” he asked, nuzzling at Scott’s jaw.

“No,” Scott whispered and Peter pressed a kiss to the side of Scott’s jaw. “I mean. I don’t know.”

“It’s alright,” Peter said and Scott believed him, shoulders easing as Peter rubbed his back. “Don’t worry, I promised I’d take good care of you. Do you trust me?”

“No. I don’t know. I can’t think.” Scott stared at the ceiling. Peter’s hands stroked his sides and Scott shuddered, arching into the touch. “Please. I can’t think.”

“Then trust me to do the thinking for you. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, right?” A drawer opened and shut and Peter was kissing him again. Scott opened his mouth, lifting his hips at Peter’s touch. Peter slid a lube-slicked finger along Scott’s ass and then into him. Scott could hear the sounds again but it was not crying this time, it was screaming and chains rattling. It was a discordant sound, enough to focus on and Scott did.

“Who else is here?” Scott said, his tongue like lead. Peter’s finger moved in and out of him, and a second one joined to stretch Scott.

“No one important,” Peter murmured. “Just focus on this.” He fingers twisted inside Scott and Scott’s hips bucked. Peter took the extra space to rest his arm on the bed and Scott’s hips on his arm. Scott shifted and it would have almost been a struggle if he could think enough. There was something wet on his face and Scott focused on that. Peter’s lips kissed the moisture away and Scott pulled away. Peter added a third finger and that point of contact became Scott’s entire world. His hips rose and fell on those fingers and Peter added a fourth, kissing every inch of Scott’s neck.

“Are you ready?” Peter asked and Scott tried to focus on him. Everything was swimming, though, and try as he might he could not pinpoint where Peter was.

“No,” Scott said. “Yes. Everything is too much.” He looked up at Peter with mute appeal. “Please, everything is too much.”

“It’s going to be just fine,” Peter soothed and Scott watched as Peter pulled away. Peter’s belt dropped to the floor and his pants to his waist. Scott stared, a feeling of nausea rising in him as Peter stroked himself three times, and then added lube. Scott’s hips were unresisting as Peter lifted them to secure Scott’s legs on Peter’s shoulders.

“I’ll kill you,” a voice said and Scott’s head moved from side to side, trying to find the owner. He knew her and something rose in him. That voice was one he knew, one he had laughed with, one he had run with on full moons. “If you do this, I’ll kill you. I’ll put you so far into the ground that you’ll never know which way is up. Do you hear me?”

“Lydia,” Scott said, tugging on the ropes. Peter pushed into him at that moment and Scott jerked, moaning. Peter fucked him, slow and steady. Scott could barely breathe, his entire being focusing on the way Peter slid in and out of him. There was moisture on his face again and Scott could almost imagine why. He was hard again and Peter’s hand slid along it again and again. Peter’s fingers were rough and grew rougher as his pace increased. Scott was shouting something, he could not focus on what it was. Pain was surrounding him, occluding everything else but the victorious way Peter was kissing him, the way Peter was rocking into him, and the way Peter’s hand was bringing him closer and closer to climax. It was too much and Scott came with a sob.

“Sh, Scott, you’re doing so well. You’re so beautiful and good,” Peter was saying. Scott opened his eyes to see Peter smiling down at him, pressing into him and releasing. Scott shuddered with the force of it and Peter kissed him again. “You’re so perfect,” Peter murmured. “Beautiful, and perfect. You did very well, Scott.”

“Did I?” Scott said, the words heavy on his tongue. Peter beamed and ran a cum-stained hair through Scott’s hair. Scott turned into the embrace and Peter smiled.

“Very well,” he assured Scott. Scott sighed, closing his eyes again. He could barely think, the haze of pleasure was still washing over him. Whatever was clouding his mind was leaving, though, but that hardly mattered. All he could feel was Peter’s hands, and his lips, and there was a nagging feeling that Scott wanted to hate that, but it was continuously erased in the waves of pleasure.

Peter murmured another praise that left Scott glowing before pulling out of him after some time and pressing a kiss to Scott’s lips. “My good little beta,” Peter said, stroking Scott’s hair. Scott nuzzled the palm of Peter’s hand. “Rest,” Peter said and Scott closed his eyes. “Rest.” Scott did.

Lydia’s blood dripped off of the manacles on her wrists onto the floor as she strained against the chains again. They did not break, as they had not broken before, but she still pulled her wrists against them. Her fangs dug into her lips as she watched Peter move from Scott, his hand resting on Scott’s thigh.

“Did you know,” Lydia said, “that older men need an hour, sometimes days, between ejaculation?”

“He’ll never forgive you,” Lydia said. Hatred was thick in her voice as he approached her. Peter crouched before her and she spat in his face. He wiped it off of him and examined it. “He’ll kill you,” she threatened.

“No, he won’t,” Peter said, wiping the saliva on her clothes. Lydia trembled, straining against her chains. Her jaws snapped an inch from Peter’s fingers as he reached out to her. “He doesn’t have the stomach for murder.”

“You think so?” Lydia asked, snapping her jaws at his fingers again. He did not flinch, his hand resting on her cheek. She pulled away and his hand followed. “I think he’d gladly rip out your throat for this,” she said, her voice shaking as Peter cupped her other cheek. “In fact, I’d be willing to do it for him.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Peter removed her shackles and caught her wrists as she lunged. He smirked at her as he clasped her hands behind her back. “Since you seem to be so full of facts,” he said, “why don’t you tell me about how alpha werewolves and beta werewolves interact?” He ran a claw down her cheek and she trembled.

Lydia bit his finger as it came to her lips, her eyes glowing gold. Peter snarled and she held on, her eyes boring into his. His blood filled her mouth and she released him to spit it out, gagging on the taste of it. “What do I care?” she asked, her saliva trailing down her chin. “You’re not my alpha.”

“I created you,” Peter said, reaching behind him.

“But you don’t own or control me,” Lydia said, throwing her hair back. Peter’s eyes ran over the curve of her neck and he licked his lips. She snarled, digging her claws into his fingers. He kept his grip on her hands despite a hiss of pain, grabbing a long needle. Lydia watched as he settled back into his crouch, pushing the plunger and spraying some of the chemical. Lydia wrinkled her nose at the scent.

“Do you know what this is?” Peter asked. Lydia rolled her eyes.

“I’m sure it’s some kind of drug,” she said. Peter smiled trailing the tip along her arm.

“Ketamine,” he said. Without warning he pushed the needle into her and Lydia gasped. The plunger depressed and he released her, throwing the needle in the trash. “Can you tell me the effects of Ketamine, Lydia?”

“It takes thirty minutes to affect the system,” Lydia said as she stood, rubbing her arm. He watched her from his crouch, his hands resting on her hips. “It causes hallucinations, and can leave the user unconscious.” She brushed his hands off and kicked him in the shoulder. Peter grunted and held his shoulder, snapping it back into place. “Thirty minutes is more than enough time to beat you.”

“You think?” Peter asked, standing and grabbing her shoulders. She swung her hand and he ducked her claws, pushing her against the wall. His knee forced her thighs apart and Lydia dug her claws into Peter’s neck. “I’m not quite sure you understand how quickly drugs effect werewolves.”

Lydia’s tongue did feel heavy but she raked her claws down his neck anyway. His blood and skin lodged under her fingernails as he bared his fangs, eyes glowing red. “You’re not scaring me,” Lydia said, tilting her head, her eyes flashing gold. “I already told you, you’re not my alpha.”

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me to forget those words,” Peter said as he stroked her hair. Lydia twisted and his fingers tightened in her hair and yanked her head back to face him. “You’re going to feel good,” he said and Lydia could smell the arousal leaking off of him and felt afraid for the first time. “You’re going to enjoy every second of it.” His hand slid the strap off her dress off of her shoulder and she swung her claws again.

Peter caught her hand and kissed her. After he nibbled at her bottom lip he pushed his tongue into her mouth and she tried to bite, but she was feeling fuzzy. The ketamine had affected her, and when Peter nudged her chin upward so he could lick her neck, Lydia forgot how to protest. His tongue on her neck felt strange, as if it was not even her neck, and she tangled her hands in his hair.

Peter nipped at her neck, kissing down to her chest. He slid the other strap off of her shoulder and pulled her dress down to her waist. Lydia was lifted from the wall and she watched as if she could see outside of her body, see the way her head fell into his shoulder and the way his fingers unclasped her bra. The arousal in the room was thick and she tried to move.

“Don’t fight it,” Peter said and Lydia looked at his dark eyes and the grin on his face that would have scared a shark. She trembled as he stroked her cheek, kissing her again. It was gentler this time and her lips parted. His fingers busied themselves with mapping out her stomach and chest, passing over the swell of her breasts.

“Stop,” she said, but whether she said it out loud or to herself remained lost to her. Sheets met her bare back and she was resting against a bed. Her dress and panties disappeared and Peter’s head was in between her legs, his hands tracing patterns on her inner thighs. His tongue pressed against her and he spread her thighs, settling to his task.

Lydia moaned, her hands tangling in the sheets as Peter hummed against her. He was talking, she realized as the vibrations continued, and she tried to listen. The words washed over her, a comforting wave of noise, and she closed her eyes. He continued to lick her, adding a finger slick with lube at one point. The drag of his finger and the roughness of his tongue sent her over the edge for the first time and she bucked into his face. He held her through her orgasm, and when she slumped back on the bed she realized that he was continuing.

“No,” she said, but she was not quite sure why. It felt good. So she subsided and Peter continued to not pay attention, adding another finger and spreading them deep inside her. She moaned, her hips jerking up and down into his face as he toyed with her clit. Her second orgasm seized around his fingers and she squeezed her eyes shut, panting. Her lower body felt like it was torn to shreds as he continued, adding another finger and grunting against her. The pleasure was ragged and almost painful and Lydia squirmed.

“Please stop,” she begged. “I can’t.” The third orgasm had her back arching and she let out a sound between a moan and a whine. Peter kissed up her body, shifting so he lay against her. His fingers pulled out of her and Lydia slumped. She felt dizzy and as he kissed her cheek she tried to pull away, felt his lips slip down to her pulse and suck there. He was growling and she responded with a low whine, her eyes gold and fangs replacing canines.

“Say it,” Peter said, his fingers digging into her sides. Lydia stared at him, her eyes unfocused.

“Say what?” she asked. He was twisting in front of her, his red eyes the only fixed point while his face distorted and melted. Lydia whimpered, covering her eyes, or trying to. Her hands stayed on the bed, only her fingers twitching.

“Say it,” Peter said again and his voice was a dark growl. “Say what you are.”

“An omega,” she said and cried out as his nails turned into claws. “An omega,” she half sobbed, clinging to that truth. The room was melting and she forgot how she got there, forgot what was happening, and she reached out for Peter. “A beta,” she said, her voice choked. She wanted someone to make the room stop melting and spinning. “I’m a beta, just, please,” she said as tears ran down her cheeks.

Peter pulled her to him and she buried her face in his shoulder, her body shaking. “It’s okay,” he told her, stroking her back. “You’re safe. I protect what’s mine.” He kissed her shoulder before pushing himself into her. “I take care of what’s mine,” he said as he started thrusting into her. His fingers pressed into her spine as if he could open her back and run his fingers along the bone. Lydia panted, spreading her legs, her eyes gold and unfocused again. “I make sure what’s mine stays that way,” he assured her as he came inside of her. Lydia’s head threw back and she moaned. Peter kissed her neck before releasing her to lay back on the bed.

“Rest now,” he said, pulling away from her. Lydia reached out after him, but her head ached and her mouth felt dry. Her eyes slid shut and she knew no more.


End file.
